


Purpose of the Game

by astraev



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-22
Updated: 2004-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 08:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraev/pseuds/astraev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Author's Note</b>: Okay, I was addicted to Hikaru no Go by a boy who I was on the Science Olympiad with at school. (Shows how much of a dork I am to begin with.) I read the entire manga in two days, and I actually did my homework during that time, though sleeping was optional. I fell in love with the characters. And then I tried fanfiction. And found HnG slash… and it vastly disappointed me because… well… it's the whole reason I wrote this fic. I still read the slash, I have nothing against it, but it just… doesn't jibe with how I see the characters.</p><p>Oh. And I know next to nothing about Japanese culture, and only what a computer game has taught me about go. Forgive me for any inconsistencies in anything, this is v. rough just because I wanted to finish something. I promised myself I would never post anything without finishing it.</p><p><b>Disclaimer</b>: Not mine in the slightest.</p><hr/>
    </blockquote>





	1. Learning

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note** : Okay, I was addicted to Hikaru no Go by a boy who I was on the Science Olympiad with at school. (Shows how much of a dork I am to begin with.) I read the entire manga in two days, and I actually did my homework during that time, though sleeping was optional. I fell in love with the characters. And then I tried fanfiction. And found HnG slash… and it vastly disappointed me because… well… it's the whole reason I wrote this fic. I still read the slash, I have nothing against it, but it just… doesn't jibe with how I see the characters.
> 
> Oh. And I know next to nothing about Japanese culture, and only what a computer game has taught me about go. Forgive me for any inconsistencies in anything, this is v. rough just because I wanted to finish something. I promised myself I would never post anything without finishing it.
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : Not mine in the slightest.
> 
> * * *

Being the Honinbo challenger meant everything to Hikaru.

It was a chance to prove to himself that he was worthy of Sai, worthy to be his successor to Honinbo Shusaku. It was a chance to show the Go world that he was just as good as his rival, the current 10-dan. To show that he was only a year behind "the bright hope of the Japanese Go World."

He was tired of being looked down upon by Touya's followers. He would fight! He would study hard! He would devote his life to gaining that title!

But somehow, he was standing on a Tokyo subway car, leaning on a pole, on the way to teach at an international bazaar-thing at Komazawa University. Akari's University.

"Are you sure you don't mind teaching?" she asked for the fourth time. Her nerves were showing; she alternately smoothed her skirt, her hair, and yet still managed to hold onto the subway loop to remain upright. "I know the first of your Honinbo games is tomorrow."

Hikaru reached up over his head to scratch his neck, the picture of embarrassment. She seemed to have read his thoughts. "I promised to teach at your High School Go club and I never did; I figured it was time to fulfill a promise."

Akari smiled sweetly, her nerves forgotten for a moment. "The American students are going to love you!"

"I was just glad you didn't want me to wear a suit and tie," Hikaru mumbled. Akari blushed. She didn't like the formal, adult Hikaru that she so often saw pictures of in her copies of Weekly Go. She liked his un-tucked collared shirt and jeans as a reflection of his laid back personality. The look was more mature than the constant sportswear of their childhood, but it fit him better than the stiff suits his profession sometimes forced upon him. "Will there be food?" Hikaru asked, startling Akari slightly.

"Oh, yes," said Akari. "Lots of traditional Japanese food. And some very good ramen."

"Ramen? Why didn't you say so before!" Hikaru smiled and forgot about his opponent, his opening move, his title – for a while. He didn't get to see his childhood best friend very often any more, with her being away at school, and him being in his own apartment.

She deserved some of his time. Sometimes, Hikaru remembered his middle school days and cringed at the way he dismissed her as a common _girl_ , rather than the friend she was. He didn't think he could make it up to her, but he was trying.

"We get off at the next stop," said Akari. She smiled. "I really hope you like my school."

It was only a minute or so until the subway car did stop. Hikaru stepped off first and then turned around to make sure that Akari minded the gap. He looked around for the stairs, but Akari, a regular to this particular subway line, pulled him in the right direction. "So," he said, trying to fill the silences, "Why did you pick Komazawa?"

"I wanted to study history," Akari said after a pause. "I wanted to study Japanese Culture and how it had changed since the beginning, or as near to it as possible. So I studied history and I studied literature." She reached the top of the stairs and entered the light, tilted her head into the setting sun. "I picked Komazawa because it was the oldest university trying to make new understanding."

Hikaru was silent for a moment, remembering history lessons of long ago. "Was there a particular era you specialized in?" He tried to protect his question, make it sound as if he asked it casually rather with any sort of ulterior motive by looking around, concentrating on the sidewalk, staring at the blossoms on the cherry trees along the path they were walking – but Hikaru was never capable of subtly, even in Go, and it was obvious there was a reason he was asking.

"Actually," said Akari, a pause in her voice, as if she had never considered something before. "You were the reason I chose the Heian. Go was perfected then, and features prominently in the politics. You introduced me to Go, and you showed me what I wanted to study."

Akari looked at Hikaru for some affirmation, some acknowledgement of the inspiration he had caused her. Hikaru smiled a soft smile and looked into the face of his old friend. "Thank you," he said softly. It meant a lot to him that she understood his connection to the Heian, even if she never knew Sai.

They walked in silence for a moment or two, and then Hikaru returned to his normal self. "We've been walking for five minutes! Where is your school?"

Akari laughed. "The other reason I chose Komazawa is because it allowed me to walk and enjoy nature before I had to hustle to a train station."

"You and nature," Hikaru sighed. "You and nature."

The foreign students that the entire festival revolved around finally begged exhaustion and retired to their rooms long before Hikaru was ready to go home. At some point during the evening, he remembered what he was to face in the morning, and though he had a train ride home, though he had wanted to go over some kifu, he just sat in front of the goban he had tutored on and stared at the juvenile shapes that lay there.

"I'm sorry that they were no match for you," whispered Akari, sitting across the universe of lines from Hikaru and handing a steaming cup of ramen over the expanse.

"Oh, that's not a problem," said Hikaru. "They were just learning," he took the cup of ramen and the chopsticks Akari offered "and America is not very strong in Go anyway." They sat in silence for a moment, Akari from exhaustion of playing hostess and interpreter, Hikaru from the weight of responsibility he had begun to take on. Hikaru spoke first. "Thank you for being a translator."

"I remember your English scores," Akari replied slyly, and grinned into her ramen.

"No, I mean it." Hikaru looked right at her, right into her eyes. "You did more teaching than I did, really, tonight, because you knew the right words to say."

Akari could not hold his gaze. "Would you like to play teaching-go with me? That way you can earn your wage tonight, by your own standards."

Hikaru almost protested that he was taking no wage, that he was there as a favor to her, but he remained silent. He was glad she asked to play Go. He would have never offered, he would have thought she had given up on the entire topic, trying to forget him. But she hadn't. He handed her the goki with black stones. "Take your handicap."

"Shindo-6-dan against me, Akari who-hopes-she-is-10-kyu," Akari intoned, as if she were an announcer, someone to explain this game to a crowd. Arkari placed 16 stones, the supposed difference between them, but she knew it was wider. She bowed. "Please," she said, and bowed over the board.

Hikaru was surprised. 10-kyu. She had kept up with her play, she had come a long way from the 20-kyu that most causual players remain at – and where she was as a middle schooler. "Please," he said, and mimicked her action.

They took twenty, thirty turns in silence, Hikaru slowly gaining back the territory that had been handed to his opponent. Akari didn't care that she was losing, and she did learn a new move, a new idea here and there, but she was glad to be playing with Hikaru again. She loved the feeling of intensity directed at her whenever she played Hikaru, even when he was a mere beginner in junior high.

"You know," Akari said softly, "another name for the game of go is 'conversation with hands.'" Even though her voice was soft, Hikaru's head snapped up from surveying the board, she interrupted his train of thought. He was trying to read how to have Akari win by one moku.

"I didn't," said Hikaru. He smiled softly again, and turned back to the board to gaze at it causually. "I get yelled at all the time by Waya and Touya for knowing nothing about my job."

Akari's heart twisted inexplicably when Hikaru mentioned his job and his friends that he met in his job. She was not a part of that side of Hikaru's life, and she suddenly felt the need to be, urgently. She placed her next stone. It extended the liberties of her shape, and took her out of atari. She was playing defensively, a little recklessly, but it was only Hikaru. It wasn't an amateur tournament, it wasn't anything with stakes.

Hikaru himself was forgetting about stakes, relaxing in Akari's presence, forgetting again what lay ahead of him, loosening himself up, getting ready to take what he so rightly earned. What he felt he should inherit.

"Have you ever played with the stones, and made a perfect pattern?" asked Akari, remembering suddenly a long forgotten thought. "Have you ever played with yourself not to capture, but to fill the entire board, or nearly, so perfectly that nothing is captured or lost?"

"I've forced ties before," said Hikaru, confused. "I've played games where no stones were captured before."

"But those were with other people," Akari said, hands warming on her cup of Ramen. "You weren't in control of their actions, even if you were playing teaching-go and you were leading them. I'm talking about being in control of your own life, your own go."

"No," said Hikaru. "I guess I've never played with the stones all by myself. Why do you ask?"

"It's…"Akari paused, unsure how to explain this strange impulse she had once. "It's instructional, for lack of a better way to describe it." She sipped her ramen, contemplated her next move. "It helps you discover yourself."

Hikaru raised an eyebrow, but didn't contradict or belittle his friend as he had in the past. He placed a stone, and Akari's shape was once again in Atari. She stared at the board, unable to see a way to regain her moku she had lost. "I resign," she said, bowing again. She stood up, flexed to regain feeling after sitting in the formal posture, and gestured with her hand. "Come on," she said. "I'll walk you to the subway station. You should go home. You _do_ have a game tomorrow, after all."

They walked in silence together, Akari leading Hikaru back through the turns and past the park they had seen from the other way just hours before. Hikaru was trying to figure out what she had meant by "playing your own game of Go," and it being instructive. He was trying to figure out why she resigned at that particular moment instead of playing until the end. He was trying to figure out why he wanted to reach out and take her hand, and he was trying to figure out why he was resisting the notion as well.

He hadn't learned anything by the time they reached the station. Akari waved. "I'm sure you can find your way home from here," she said, smiling softly. "I have to get back to the dorm." She watched until he disapeered in the depths of the underground, and then turned slowly, to walk back to her dorm.

Hikaru recreated games all the way home, staunchly ignoring the flashing lights as the train speed through stations, the clacking of the subway, as everything suddenly proved highly distracting. He climbed the stairs to his apartment, turned the key to get in, locked it behind him, and fell into bed. He slept dreamlessly.


	2. Learning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Translations** : Maybe you can get this in context. If not:
> 
>  _omiai =_ Japanese arranged marriage
> 
>  _nakodo_ = Family friend who arranges arranged marriages

Hikaru won the first game of the Honinbo Challenge. And while the Go world was not a buzz with surprise, there were certainly murmurings about this talented young pro player who had slipped by under the radar for so long.

It was, again, the day before a Honinbo game. This time, Hikaru did not schedule any outings, any study sessions, any lunch meetings, and instead locked himself in his apartment to recreate games for himself.

The eddies and tidal flows of the first game he had played laid before him on the universe of the Go board. He studied it, remembering the reactions of his opponent, fathoming the deepness of the thought behind each move… and tried to figure out how in the next game his opponent would take his own moves and use what had been revealed in strategy against him.

And when he could learn no more from the game he had played, he cleared the board.

He meant to recreate the decisive game that had launched the current Honinbo to his title, he meant to look at his opponent's strategy as a young man in order to fathom the twists of fate that had made the old man a defending champion.

But all Hikaru could do was stare at the board. His left hand was covering the white go-ki, and the tips of the fingers of his right hand were just buried in the slate stones that would make the first move of this now historic game. And though the kifu was staring at him, all Hikaru could remember was Akari's words.

 _"Have you ever played with the stones, and made a perfect pattern? Have you ever played with yourself not to capture, but to fill the entire board, or nearly, so perfectly that nothing is captured or lost?"_

Hikaru tried to shake the image, tried not to form patterns in his head that would allow such a possibility, tried not to do exactly what Akari had suggested… and he placed a black stone one right and one down from the center. The white he placed in a mirror image. And he kept placing stones, kept placing little soldiers to start at each other across the abyss of that one territory square left unmarred… but he reached a point where he could place no more stones without capturing, without throwing the balance off…

And he ran from his room, grabbed his coat from the banister, and burst out onto the street to breathe clouds of vaporous mushrooms, ignoring his mother's calls of concern from inside the house. He pounded the pavement, watched his steps and not where he was going, and finally paused to catch his breath, leaning forward on his knees, hair falling willy-nilly and fluttering in the fair wind, in front of the play ground where Sai had taught him to place a go stone so long ago.

Hikaru fought his heaving breath, tried to calm down from his impulsive run in the cool air, and sat on the swings.

"Why is it impossible to play an entire game of Go without capturing or gaining territory?" he asked, his voice loud enough to satisfy his aching heart.

"Because that's the purpose of the game," said Akari's voice. There was laughter behind it, a sweetness Hikaru wouldn't have expected. He was glad to hear her voice.

Hikaru whipped his head around to find the source of the voice, and saw Akari sitting on the end of the slide, not far from where he was sitting. "What are you doing here?" he asked, heart beating faster once again.

"Enjoying the night air," said Akari. "Don't you have a game tomorrow?"

"Yeah," said Hikaru. "I should be studying." There was silence, and Hikaru seemed to have said that he shouldn't have been in the park, didn't want to be talking to Akari, but neither made a move to leave, and they sat in silence for long moments.

"You tried playing the perfect game by yourself, didn't you?" Akari asked; her voice small and tentative.

"Yeah," said Hikaru. He didn't say any more.

"If there's something I learned," Akari said, "is that the point of Go is to gain territory and capture enemy pieces." She stood, hugged her elbows closer to her body and sighed. "You need someone to play with, someone to share perfection with, or perfection is pointless. I figured if anyone could fill the board perfectly, it would be you."

Hikaru studied Akari. He looked straight into her eyes. "There is perfection outside of Go, you know."

"Life is perfection, Hikaru," Akari admonished in a voice so quiet that Hikaru strained to hear. "It's just a matter of who you share it with."

"I've been thinking about you," Hikaru admitted. "All the time."

"And you," said Akari, stepping close to Hikaru. She took a deep breath and breathed in the smell of his soap and shampoo, "should be focusing on your Go."

"Will you help me focus on my Go?"

"I will play as many games with you as you need me too."

Hikaru won the next Honinbo game.

And all the rest.

Akira couldn't believe what he was seeing. He sank into the cushions around his mother's lunch table, staring aghast at the piece of paper in his hand. He was being invited to the wedding of Shindo Hikaru. Not only was the mere twenty-four-year-old boy the new reigning Honinbo, but he was getting _married_ in a traditional Japanese ceremony, no less!

"Anything interesting in the mail?" asked Akira's mother, as she set down a steaming plate of rice and then sat at the head of the table. She took Akira's plate and started to spoon rice and the main dish in heaping helpings for her son.

"No, nothing," he said, and hid the invitation. Yes, it was addressed to his entire family, but he knew it was just for him, just to show him that Shindo had finally surpassed him in not one area, but two. Two! Akira knew that the leaps in jealousy was because Shindo had finally won a real title, one that would bring him fame for the rest of his days, while Akira himself was still only the 10-dan. And now he was … getting married. There was only one honorable thing to do, only one thing that would satisfy the challenge set by Shindo…!

"Mother, is there anyone we may know who is willing to act as a _nakodo_?"

Both his mother and father looked up from their lunches abruptly. It was his father who spoke. "You wish to marry, Akira?"

Akira looked deep into his plate of food to avoid his parent's gazes. "I wish to consider it."

"Your mother and I had an _omiai,"_ said his father. "We are quite happy."

"Do you know of anyone?" Akira pressed, hoping they would not notice the color creeping into his face.

"Yes," said his mother. "I do know of someone." She swallowed another mouthful of food. "I'll call them this afternoon."


	3. Conquering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the scene I wrote the whole story for. I hope it makes sense. And I'm sorry each chapter got shorter and less detailed. :(

Shindo apparently had not told anyone he was getting married and had just let the invitations arrive in unsuspecting mailboxes to the pro players everywhere. Akira wasn't surprised, it was the impulsive thing Shindo would do… or the irresponsible, forgetful thing he would do as well.

"Why didn't you TELL me?" cried Waya as he backed Shindo into a corner, his finger hitting Shindo's chest as if he were trying to drill a hole into it.

"Tell you what?" asked Shindo, throwing his hands up into the air, trying to block the attack.

"That you were getting MARRIED!" he shouted, and the entire lobby of the Go Institute turned to look. "I practically could have found out sooner if I had read WEEKLY GO!"

Isumi pulled Waya back from attacking Shindo, and helped Shindo back to a more stable standing position. "Really, Hikaru," said Isumi, "You should have told us you found a girlfriend… a fiancée, now, I suppose… it probably would have stopped some confusion."

Akira wondered what confusion that might be, but Shindo seemed to know. His good natured smile disappeared and his gazed turned hard – not steely – and he seemed to look straight at Akira across the room. "Excuse me," said Shindo, and he pushed past his more social friends to talk to Akira. "Touya," he said. "I think you and I should have lunch together, okay?"

"Sure," said Akira. "I'll be waiting for you here. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks," said Hikaru. He smiled, and it was at last evident that his upcoming marriage was a source of great joy for the boy. "I'll see you here."

Later, Hikaru set the pace as the two rivals walked towards an as yet undecided restaurant.

"I know you love ramen, Shindo, but I don't want to go there just now." Akira was revving for a fight, he was working himself into a fury to stare down the only person worth staring down in order to win his choice for lunch. Just in case he'd never when anything anymore.

"I don't care, you chose," said Shindo unexpectedly, quietly. Akira stopped in his tracks momentarily, surprised. Then he realized he was being left behind, and hurried to catch up.

"Why don't you care?" asked Akira, trying to figure out why Shindo was acting so strange.

"I invited you out," said Shindo, shrugging. "It wouldn't be polite to force you to eat where you don't want to."

How could they have missed this changed Shindo? This encroaching politeness had been obvious for weeks, why hadn't anyone guessed the source of the change? "She's changed you."

"Yes and no," said Shindo. "I'm still Shindo Hikaru. I'm just a Shindo Hikaru that realizes that there's more to life than winning, go, and winning at go."

"Are you TRYING to blow your title without even getting to hold it?" demanded Akira. "Of course you have to win at go!"

"And Touya Akira 10-dan is telling me, Honinbo Shindo Hikaru how to win at Go?" shouted Hikaru. "I can still win at go, I can still be a competitor as well as focus on other things sometimes! I want to have a life! I don't want to die and wish I had lived another thousand years because all I loved was this game!"

Akira stopped cold. For the first time, he wondered if all he loved was the game.

Hikaru saw his fear and took a deep breath, calmed down a little. "Passion…" Hikaru heaved a sigh. "Passion is what makes a go player great. Passion is what drew me to you all those years ago, what forced me to finally learn go."

"And now you're Honinbo. And you're getting married." Akira wondered why he was feeling so dejected.

"I wanted to talk to you about passion," said Hikaru. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and turned away, as if he was strained and embarrassed. "I want you to understand why people will be looking at you in the coming weeks, and why a good number of people will be staring at you at my wedding."

"What?" Akira was confused, and for a reason he felt he should be scandalized.

"Our weekly practice sessions are great practice. But we have this history of shouting at one another in a… display of passion." Hikaru sighed. They were standing in front of his normal ramen shop, and he pushed his hands as far in the pockets of his peacoat as they would go and nodded towards the door. "Let's go inside."

They ordered and seated themselves in the corner farthest away from the door. Akira was silent, and he felt distinctly disadvantaged in this conversation, for some reason. He had no idea what Hikaru was talking about. "What do you mean, passion?"

"We shout at one another, Akira."

"Yeah, we disagree."

"We don't disagree, Akira. We want to be better that each other and fight tooth and nail to do it." Hikaru tapped his finger against the chopsticks sitting at the place in front of him. "People tend to think that it's a sign of… romantic interest or attachment."

Akira's eyes grew wide. "What? You and I?" He gripped the table and his eyes darted as if he was looking for an exit. "No! I mean, we're rivals, right? Nothing more?" And finally, there was a note of desperation in his voice.

Hikaru couldn't decide if he should be sad or relieved. He wasn't crushing any sort of hope Akira had; that was good. But for Akira to be this unawares of what people might think… Hikaru couldn't complete the thought. He shook his head. "Nothing more." He sighed. "I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the situation."

"But…" Akira stared hard at the grain of the wood of the table. "but we're rivals. We're like … we would never fraternize with the enemy."

Hikaru smiled. "I'm glad you agree. Akari… my fiancé… is a history major, and she was telling me about all these battles that opposing generals had fought. Apparently, in America, they had a civil war, and the generals were Grant and Lee. And they fought to the bitter end, and finally one surrounded the other and made him give up his sword. It reminded me of us." He paused, then added, "As rivals.

"Because we always fight until the bitter end. I just hope neither of us ever give up our go-ki."

"Never," said Akira, the old competitive glint in his eye. His face changed then, and he looked away and then back. "Besides, I was going to bring a date to your wedding."

Hikaru smiled. "I'm glad. I hope you and your date have a great time."


End file.
